AN All good things to those who wait. LIKE TWO NEW CHAPTERS.
Felicity woke up to the sensation of a very cold back. She looked around, blinking dully as she tried to fix the problem. Her cardigan had fallen to the side, revealing the large, diamond shaped cut out in the back of her dress. She dragged in a breath and fumbled to pull the cardigan back up (as cute as that dress was, that much skin was definitely not family reunion attire), then noticed a hand was in the way.
She blinked, struggling to make sense of why her hand was refusing to move from her side. Then Felicity realized that it was not, in fact, her hand, but Oliver's. He had thrown his hand back in sleep to where it now rested on her hip. She, in turn, seemed to have shimmied closer so that her front was pressed against his back.
Felicity rectified the cold back situation and returned to facing Oliver's shoulder blades. She closed her eyes, settling into the warmth of his body. She tried nestling her hand back by her face, but for the life of her, Felicity couldn't get comfortable. She cracked open an eye, examining the way Oliver was laying down, then slipped her arm in the slight gap underneath his. She closed her eyes as her hand settled on his ribs, satisfied with her new position. Felicity dragged in a few slow breaths, letting the muted, cool smell of Oliver wash over her. It was the welcoming scent of fabric softener and something else, something almost spicy in its freshness. Felicity nuzzled closer, liking the softness of his shirt against her face.
Felicity dozed, wandering in and out of sleep. Half-hearted thoughts of checking the clock came to mind, but she was comfortable and warm against Oliver's back. Her legs were pressed against his and the idle entertainment of running her toes along the hem of his pants was captivating, feeling each edge of the fabric through her thick tights bringing its own kind of trance.
Oliver shifted and Felicity didn't think anything of it until he carefully picked up her hand. She made herself stay still, breathing slow as he rolled over. He laid on his back, then gently settled her hand onto his stomach. Oliver left his hand over hers and let out a breath.
Felicity snuck a look at him through her lashes and was surprised to find his eyes closed, face relaxed. She found herself smiling absently, then self-consciousness fluttered through her. Was this okay? Did he actually want to be there with her or was he playing yet another part, waiting out the minutes until she decided it was time to get up?
Felicity chewed on her cheek, unsure what to do. Did it matter? He…was hired to be there with her, wasn't he? She wrinkled her nose at the thought, disliking the cold, slimy feeling to it. She didn't want him to do anything just because she had paid him to. But…his face looked peaceful in a way that could never be bought, and the care with which he had picked up her hand, careful not to disturb her as he adjusted, it…well, she liked to think it meant something other than good business sense.
Felicity, in a reckless moment of 'why not?', nuzzled closer to Oliver. She actually held onto him rather than allowing her arm to just rest on his stomach, and her legs were definitely a little more friendly than they would have been had her family been around. He did not protest, though, and her doubts didn't catch up and make her pull back.
But Felicity did notice that Oliver gently ran his thumb across her arm, almost tender in its simplicity.
The two of them finally got up a little after four thirty. Felicity could hear Gina's kids downstairs, the sound muted through the closed door. Oliver eased upright, then hung his legs off the side of the bed. Felicity watched him, still a little muddled from her nap. He glanced back at her, still tangled in the afghan and sprawled out from where she had been holding him a few seconds before.
"If you want to keep sleeping, I can go down by myself," he said softly. Felicity shook her head and stretched.
"N-no, I'm fine," she yawned. "I should get up now, or I never will."
She sat up and fumbled for her glasses. With a bracing breath, Felicity heaved herself off the bed.
"How's my makeup?" she asked. Oliver looked her over, then leaned across the bed.
"Fine, but your hair…" he began, attempting to smooth down some errant strands. Felicity gave a slight groan and pulled her hair down.
"It's easiest to just do it over," she sighed, slinging it back into a normal ponytail rather than the fancy wrap-around-the-elastic number she had done that morning.
Oliver tugged her cardigan sleeve back onto her shoulder. Felicity looked down at his hand as he settled her sweater into place, then flashed him a quick smile in thanks. She had the impulse to return the favor, but Oliver's ensemble was utilitarian in its attractiveness. A dark flannel shirt and cuffed jeans were kind of difficult to mess up with a single nap.
"You ready?" she asked, smoothing down her skirt.
"Absolutely," he said, giving her a smile. It didn't feel quite as authentic as some of the ones he'd given her before.
"When were you thinking about leaving?" Oliver asked as they walked down the hall.
"I don't know, something like seven or eight. We'll see."
Oliver nodded as they turned down the stairs.
"Felicity!" Collin shrilled, catching sight of them from the foot of the stairs. He was Gina's youngest at about six and perhaps her most boisterous. He rushed up to hug Felicity, making her rock back from the impact. It was only Oliver's hands on her shoulder and elbow that kept her from falling over. Instantly the other kids materialized around her, hugging and babbling about their day. Oliver too, she noticed, was receiving some love. Collin firmly attached himself to Oliver's knees once they all made the landing, and Aaron immediately drew him into conversation.
"Hey, kids, let 'em breathe," Michael said, passing through the hall from the living room. The flock pressed back but kept up the noise.
"Dad, can we have cake now?" one of the kids asked, earning a laugh from their father.
"Didn't we tell you? We canceled the cake. No cake, just disappointment and tears."
One of the kids was taken in, gasping out "What?!", while Collin gave him a look that could only be described as sassy.
"But I saw-I saw Aunt Siobhan making a cake."
"Yeah, that's a snack for her and Wyatt to take on the road."
"No," Collin said, trailing after his father.
Felicity followed, hoping to find something she could help with. As she neared the kitchen, delicious baking smells reached her nose. Siobhan was leaning against the counter, speaking to Gina.
"Hey, Oliver, wanna play cards with me?" Nicole asked. Oliver hesitated just a moment too long for his response to be genuine.
"Yeah, sure."
"Here, I'll ask Gina and Siobhan if they want to join," Felicity offered, speaking to Nicole but looking at Oliver. He visibly relaxed at the mention of more adults diluting the children around him.
"Aunt Gina, Siobhan," Felicity called as Oliver was dragged off to the parlor, "you guys wanna play cards?"
"Hm?" Siobhan asked, turning to look at Felicity.
"Cards. Oliver might have a panic attack if he has to deal with all the kids alone."
"Yeah, sounds good," Gina laughed, then turned to Siobhan. "Do you have a timer on the chicken?"
"Yep," Siobhan said, waving her phone in the air.
"You made your own birthday dinner?" Felicity asked, feeling guilty for having slunk off to bed before offering help.
"No, in fact, I didn't, Michael and Aaron made them. I'm not allowed to so much as turn on the rice cooker."
"Is there anything you need me to do?"
"I was going to warm up corn and maybe make strawberry pina coladas for dinner," Siobhan said, nudging Felicity with her hip as she passed. "Never fear, younger Smoak, you won't be a free loader today."
"See if you can get Oliver to help her with the drinks," Gina said, wicked smile on her face. "I'm curious about the next kitchen weightlifting event."
"How about no," Felicity said firmly. Thanks to Cisco, the image of Oliver stealing her sugars was now very prominent in her mind.
"I feel like there's a story I'm missing," Siobhan said as they entered the parlor. Nicole was shuffling cards, while Aaron and Oliver waited patiently.
"There isn't," Felicity said, then abruptly changed the subject as she sat next to Oliver. "So, what're we playing?"
"I was thinking an easy game of Phase 10, and then we could play Nerts," Nicole said, patting the numerous decks of cards next to her. That girl had a sadistic streak.
"Nerts?" Oliver asked. Nicole smirked at him.
"Best way to explain it is to play it."
"Untrue," Aaron countered, shifting over to allow his mother a place to sit. "It's best described as 'multiplayer solitaire on crack'."
"Great," Oliver said, the word sounding like a rock. Felicity shot him a smile and patted his leg.
They played cards for a while, Siobhan winning their truncated game of Phase 10 before they launched into a very intense game of Nerts. Oliver turned out to be shockingly adept, and ended up clearing out his hand before nearly everyone else. Aaron managed to win in terms of technique, though he cast Oliver an appraising look as they counted up everyone's points, sizing up a rival.
Siobhan excused herself after the second round of Nerts to check on the chicken. Michael became her substitute, which resulted in the game being filled with ridiculous sound effects and squawking. Felicity followed Siobhan into the kitchen after one more round to help make the drinks. A short while later, the rest of the family came in clamoring for food.
Felicity enjoyed the conversation during dinner, a lighter, less critical version of Thanksgiving. They weren't all there to subtly tally up the changes that had happened since the last family reunion, they were there only to help Gina celebrate her big day. Felicity laughed and ate, enjoying her place next to Oliver in the dining room. He had warmed up since the delightful chaos of the card game, his conversation more genuine than complimentary. Oliver wasn't focused on charming the people around him, he was truly interacting; teasing and holding to contrary opinions, rather than taking a diplomatic middle ground.
After dinner, Michael announced that everyone needed time to digest before cake. The children flaked away for other forms of entertainment, but the adults stayed at the table. The conversation became a little more mature, not quite tipping into serious, but more sophisticated than it had been over dinner.
Felicity leaned against Oliver's shoulder, not minding the stretch required to bridge the gap between their chairs. They were currently listening to one of Michael's stories about Labrador, how everything had been breathtaking despite the appalling weather.
Felicity glanced up at the ceiling, realizing that she had been sitting most all day. She let out a gentle sigh, suddenly wanting to do something different.
"Do you want to go out to the swing?" she whispered to Oliver.
"The swing?"
"Mm-hm, by the pond," she said, pointing vaguely toward the sliding glass door.
"…Sure," he said, a hesitancy in his voice she didn't quite understand.
"If you want to stay here, that's fine. It'll be cold, so if you want to stay warm…"
"No, I'll go," he said, bracing his hands against the table.
"Where're you kids going?" Wyatt asked. They both looked up at him, Felicity feeling very much like a deer in the headlights.
"Felicity and I were going out to the swing," Oliver said, standing up.
"In this cold?" Gina asked, raising her eyebrows and glancing at the windows. "And dark?"
"The swing's right there. And Oliver and I have good coats."
"Do you at least want a hat or something?" Gina asked, easing out of her seat.
"That would be nice. Oliver…?"
"I'd like a scarf," he admitted, and Gina herded them to the hall closet. She found Felicity an unbelievably thick grey hat, while Oliver was given a wide argyle scarf, which was frankly adorable on him. They put on their coats and Oliver again offered support for Felicity as she wedged her way back into her boots.
"Don't fall into the water," Gina warned from the doorway, watching them tromp across the lawn.
The two of them walked through the frozen grass to the swing, tucked a ways back from the side of the house. It was blocked from the driveway by a large hedge, but once they passed through the gate, the pond was the first thing to be seen. The pond was made to look natural, and Felicity had to admit Gina and Michael had done a fantastic job. It looked idyllic, full of plants without the normal pond scum and uncertain banks. The edges of the pond were frozen, sending little white lines across the surface where water met ice. Sitting next to it was a large tree, from which a wide seated swing hung.
"It's beautiful," Oliver said as they neared. The lights from the house dimly lit the scene, but a moment later, the string of lights over the back patio flicked on, casting a warm yellow light across the backyard. Gina waved at them from the dining room's sliding glass door, then sat down with the others.
"I loved coming here as a kid," Felicity said. "It was exactly like I dreamed backyards should be. Vegas was just rock and cactuses."
"I had a huge yard where I grew up," Oliver told her as she settled on the swing. "Except it was ringed by woods."
"Did you have a lot of adventures in them?" Felicity asked, watching her breath plume up in front of her. The cold cut through her in a way that was just brisk enough to be energizing, making her nose run and her fingers go a little numb.
"Not really."
"You didn't even play outside with your sister?" she asked. Felicity didn't look away from the water as Oliver shifted beside her.
"We didn't really…play as much."
"I never would have guessed it, the way you handle Gina's kids. Sometimes, you don't actually look terrified of being alone with them."
Oliver shot her a look that Felicity felt even in the dark. She ignored him (except for a tiny little smirk, because she felt a little triumphant that they were now at the make-fun-of-each-other stage) and pushed off with her feet. She pumped her legs, leaning her whole body into trying to get some momentum.
A pair of hands glanced over her shoulders, then dragged the swing back by the ropes. Then Felicity was swishing out over the pond and gliding back. She broke into a surprised laugh and looked back at Oliver. He was standing off to the side, hands in his pockets like he hadn't done anything, but Felicity could see the glimmers of his responding smile.
"This pond is just so pretty," Felicity sighed after a moment, pumping her legs to keep herself going.
"And what if you fall into it?" Oliver asked.
"Then I'd go into very squeally shock, and you'd have to jump in and save me from hypothermia." Felicity smirked back at Oliver, but he seemed more somber than before. She couldn't quite see him with the shadows spreading across his face, but his posture seemed tense. She frowned, still watching him.
"Do you want me to stop swinging so hard?"
"No, I'm fine. If you do fall in, you'll be the one with the bruised pride." he said, straightening. His voice was a little teasing, making her wonder if the tension she had seen had even been real.
Felicity was quiet for a moment, soaking up the peace of the darkness. Her fingers and nose had shifted from pleasantly cold to almost uncomfortably so, and she had yet to figure out a way to wipe her nose without being obvious or tugging the swing to one side and knocking into Oliver. Despite all of that, there was something unattainably fresh about sitting out there in the dark, practically tasting the ice in the air.
"I love the winter," she murmured, hardly aware that she had said anything.
"Depends on where you are," Oliver said. She looked at him, surprised he had commented.
"Yeah?"
"Toronto is…cold," he said. The numb, understated way he said it made Felicity burst into laughter, because on a good day Toronto in winter was considered 'cold'.
"Toronto? How long were you there?"
"The better part of a year."
"Before or after Chinatown?"
"After," he said, a smile in his voice.
"Was it bad, though? Toronto, I mean."
"It wasn't terrible." There was more hiding in his voice that she was sure alluded to a miserable winter. Felicity felt something inside her droop at the thought of Oliver passing a long, lonely frigid few months in the snow and ice.
She stopped swinging her legs, and let her momentum keep her going.
Had he been lonely? She hoped not.
"Okay, but where was your favorite place in winter?" Felicity asked, wanting to find something lighter. Oliver was quietly examining the grass, considering. She let him have the silence, suddenly wondering if he did have a favorite place. Most of the things he had said about himself had been negatives; his father being dead, not having a car, not liking sports. Was that because he simply had no positives? She didn't want that. She didn't want him to be unhappy.
"I liked Florida," he said softly. She looked up. "Miami was…it was different."
She broke into a grin, trying to imagine Oliver, with his muted colors and serious expression in shorts and shades, sauntering down the bright, cluttered sidewalks of the Magic City.
"You seem to have traveled a lot," she commented.
"I suppose," he said, catching hold of one of the swing ropes once she slowed down enough. "Seeing places, people…I've learned a lot."
"That'd be cool."
"Have you not traveled much?"
"You saw my folder," she said with a shrug. "Just Vegas, Cambridge, then Starling."
"Not even for trips?"
She shrugged again, feeling uncomfortable with the question. Yes, she had traveled, but to simple places on simple trips. Seattle, Portland, Los Angeles once, and then a few trips to New York while she had been at college, but she was certain they were unlike anything Oliver had seen. She had hit all of the touristy places, the vanilla bookstores and markets, too bland for proper retelling. Nothing half so exciting as the things Oliver had probably seen.
Oliver was quiet as she slowed to a rocky halt. Both of them were thinking in the dark, letting their steamy breaths fill up the spaces between them in place of words.
"Thank you for doing this for me," she said, no longer comfortable being alone with her thoughts. Oliver was a solid warmth beside her, chasing a bit of the chill away from her side.
"Not at all," he said, using that same empty tone as all the other times she had mentioned their arrangement.
"No, really. Like, this wasn't just about you saving my bacon. I've been talking about how big the winter season is to my family and I haven't even thought about yours. Are you…I'm not tearing you away from them, am I?"
"No," he said, voice a little heavier than she was used to. "They don't mind."
"Oh, good. I know it's not like I'm stealing you for Christmas or anything, but I did take your Thanksgiving, and…it's good I'm not taking you away."
Oliver was quiet for a long moment, and something in Felicity could tell it went right along with his heavy tone. She didn't look at him, nervous she might break the spun glass wrapped around the moment.
"I haven't really…been in contact with my family lately."
Felicity looked at him, blinking in surprise.
"You and your mom and sister? But it's the holidays," she said stupidly, not understanding why he wouldn't keep in touch with them. She turned back to face the pond, embarrassed by her insensitive response. "I mean, that's just…that's unfortunate. Why…?"
"We parted on…difficult terms."
Felicity nodded, grimacing at the taut quality in his voice. "Do you…miss them?"
"Yes."
"Then, coming from the ignorant, unimportant third party that I am…I think you should try to patch things up with them, if that's what you want. Family is…" A necessity. Important. Wonderful. Judgmental. Frustrating. Fundamental. But Oliver had seen everything that family meant to her already, so there wasn't much of a point in saying all that aloud. She missed them when they were gone, looked forward to seeing everyone at reunions, was willing to overlook disagreements with her mother to allow her to spend the weekend over. Yeah, she didn't adore all of them, but…they were her family. Felicity couldn't fathom what she would be like if they were just…not there. She couldn't imagine being a little more alone than she was normally.
Felicity cleared her throat, forcing herself to look back at Oliver.
"I think you should try to reconnect with them, if you miss them. I mean, can't live with them and all that, right?"
Oliver nodded at the grass but didn't say anything. She looked up at the stars, a few faint flickers visible beyond the clouds. She was afraid to stay in her head for much longer, but she also didn't want to break the delicate silence between them. Oliver had given her a truth that she honestly wasn't sure she had any right to have, but was holding it close, just in case.
She sighed, then looked at Oliver. "Do you want to try the swing?"
Oliver looked over at her, as if surprised to find that she had not left in the long moments of quiet. He shook his head.
"No, I'm fine."
Felicity looked at him a moment, almost frowning. "You know, you say that a lot."
Oliver blinked at her with a frown. He tilted his head like he was reviewing all of the things he had said to her.
"Say what?"
"'I'm fine'," she said simply. His frown intensified as though he didn't believe her.
"I…do?"
"Yeah," Felicity said, shrinking a little where she sat. She didn't know why, but that suddenly seemed like a very personal observation to make. Oliver seemed almost troubled at the revelation, making her uncomfortable. "I mean, that's fine, I just…I just noticed, is all. But, uhm, you sure about the swing? It's kind of nice."
Oliver watched her for a moment longer, then gave a slow nod.
"Sure," he said, the words seeming to stumble out of him without realizing it. Felicity nodded and got up, smoothing down her skirts to distance herself from her sudden awkwardness. Oliver sat down on the swing, arms wrapped around the ropes to keep himself secure. Felicity moved behind him and gave his shoulders a solid push. Feeling his back beneath her palms made Felicity feel a little more grounded.
They were quiet again, the dull creek of the swing and the crisp breeze filling up the space around them. Felicity shifted in the grass, her clothes suddenly not seeming to fit her correctly.
She had been thinking earlier in the week that Oliver had allowed her to get to know him, but now she was sitting with all of these little details neatly piled in her lap and she had no idea what to do. She knew what she wanted to do, though. She wanted to retreat back inside, to hide from all of these intimate truths that were suddenly spilling forth. She wanted to curl up on the couch with Oliver, her head on his chest and his hand resting over hers the way it had during their nap. She wanted simple, she wanted manageable, she wanted that straightforward understanding that worked well for them so far. The conversation, slight as it was, had pushed her from her safety zone and now she was willing to leave it alone and resume her self-gratifying game of pretend.
The thought made her feel dirty. Oliver wasn't a thing she could just pick up and use to make herself feel better. He was a person, a person that was choosing to be there with her, choosing to be upfront with her. She needed to stop acting like he didn't have a choice in the matter, like he was completely subservient to her will.
"Felicity?"
"Yes?" she asked, dragging in a breath as he tore her from her thoughts. She stepped to Oliver's side so she could hear him a little better.
"Why did you ask me to join you?" he asked, slowing himself by dragging his feet on the ground.
"What? Uhm, because I told my family I had a boyfriend?"
"No," he said, looking up at her. He was turned away from the light of the house so she couldn't really see his face, but Felicity felt the seriousness in his eyes. "Why tonight?"
She stared at him, still not understanding.
"You don't need to keep pretending like this. Why did you hire me?"
"Gina invited the two of us," she said, still a little confused. "I mean, I could have just come alone, but it was kind of an express invitation and it just felt kind of odd to be bring you for Thanksgiving but not Hanukkah, and if I'm doing those two holidays, I might as well do the one that we both were invited to… I guess it just seemed easier this way? I mean, it worked out fine before."
He nodded and pushed himself back in the swing. He wasn't quite frowning at the pond, but his expression was almost troubled.
"Anything else?" she asked playfully. "I'm an open book."
"No, you're not," he said absently, still watching the semi-frozen pond.
"What?"
Oliver turned to her like he was just realizing what he had said. But he didn't look embarrassed, or shocked, or even critical of her. Simply direct.
"You're not an open book. I don't…know very much about you."
Felicity stared at him, trying to get his words to compute. He didn't know anything about her? How was that possible? She was a blabber mouth, virtually everything that appeared in her head was said out loud. She had spent the entire car ride up there discussing the nuances of werewolf literature, for heaven's sake. He had to have learned something about her.
"Yeah, you do," she said. "I gave you a folder about me." A folder with only two and a half pages of bullet points, but still.
"You did," Oliver agreed, giving her a tiny smile. "But a lot of that I could have discovered by being around you."
Felicity reviewed the information she had given him. Full name, age, where she had been born, where she went to college, details that all seemed important. She had told him her religion, what her family situation was, what kind of job she had. And with all of that, he didn't know her? The thought almost made her burst into laughter. He was the enigma, Felicity didn't even know his middle name (hers was Meghan, which had, coincidentally, been on the first page.).
"Seriously, though?" she asked, a bit of the laughter bleeding into her voice. "You know everything about me."
Oliver looked at her again, a steady, piercing thing. It was delivered with a long breath and a tilt of the head, allowing him to literally get a look at her from another angle. She resisted the urge to fidget as he thought, but instead met his eyes. They weren't accusatory or haughty or anything, so there was no need for her to feel so unsettled.
"You're…less of an open book and more of a…cardboard cutout. I know details about you, but a lot of it is what I can see."
Felicity watched him with an incredulous smile on her face. Cardboard cutout. Those were perilously close to the words she had used to describe him, a quiet figure sitting in her car on the ride up for Thanksgiving.
The briefest flash of panic arose in her stomach. Was this a criticism, him calling her flat, depthless? No, of course not, the look on his face was far too mild for that. But the wariness stayed with her. He didn't seem concerned, completely accepting of this fact.
Again the thought of how strange this was hit her. She wasn't the secretive one, Oliver was. Frustration began to bleed in as she thought more on it. Even if he really didn't know her that well, wasn't he bothered by his ignorance? The lack of answers Felicity had about Oliver nagged at her, wanting to be answered despite her newfound apprehension. She wanted to know who this man was, the one that was able to put on any sort of mask and fit the situation, but who was also genuinely and alarmingly kind, quietly holding her tight after the argument with her mother and not demanding a thing in return. Didn't he want to know more about her?
Was he so accepting because secrecy was his own watch word?
"I don't understand," Felicity said, forced into speaking when she couldn't puzzle it out. Oliver gave a slight smile and looked away. He let out a slow sigh, spinning his breath through the air.
"You don't lay your deeper thoughts on a platter. You're…diplomatic in that sense."
"Well, it depends on the topic," she laughed, but it didn't feel very funny. "I mean, if it's not going to really matter, if it's just poking a bear, no, I'm not gonna go...I dunno, talk presidential politics with my coworkers or something."
Oliver nodded, and Felicity rocked back on her heels. She felt off kilter, out of balance in the conversation. He wasn't saying anything rude or inflammatory, but Felicity felt certain that she should be defending herself, putting up her dukes and defying his statements. But they were correct and he wasn't looking for a fight. His strange, questionless acceptance was throwing her, different from the painfully earnest doubt of her mother or the flippant comments of her coworkers.
"Why did you tell your family you had a boyfriend? Why not tell them the truth, or say you two broke up?" he asked, watching her as he delivered his rhetoric.
"Because—I didn't want to admit I'd said such a stupid lie. You met Jodie, she'd never let me live it down." Felicity tried to keep her voice light, but her skin was prickling all over.
"And this was easier?"
"Yeah," Felicity said, the flat taste of a lie filling her mouth. He didn't say anything for a while, just watched her. It was like his gaze was drawing out the little truths she had happily been ignoring.
It hadn't really been simplicity that had driven her to this, far from it. She had planned and fretted and budgeted and worked to set this whole thing up. She had spoken to her friends in Central City, but then had also sought out the worldly wisdom of her old roommate, Sara, double and triple checking her work. The unexpected gift of Sara giving her Oliver's info had cut down on a whole swathe of interviews that Felicity had initially planned on doing. It had not been simplicity that had sent her to Oliver.
Worry over her family's further disappointment and criticisms had led her to all of this. The dread of failure had led her to all of this. That was what had made her so nervous on Thanksgiving, that was the dirty secret that she worried about being smeared somewhere public. It wasn't that she had hired an escort, or even that she had lied. It was the fear that she would fall short of their expectations, that weird, geeky Felicity Smoak had failed in fulfilling their mandate of finding a boyfriend.
Felicity grimaced, not liking how the realization stung. She leaned on the rope of the swing and closed her eyes. Oliver pressed his hand on the small of her back, giving her a support she hadn't realized she needed.
They stayed in silence for a while, just listening to the things going on around them.
"Hey, you two!" Gina yelled from across the yard. Felicity jolted around to see her aunt confined to the porch by her lack of shoes. "We're having cake now."
"Okay!" Felicity called back, waving at her. Gina disappeared back into the house, leaving the silent shatters of the moment in her wake. Felicity cleared her throat, doubting if she could meet Oliver's eyes after everything. He hadn't been inside of her head, thank goodness, but she felt certain he would see the truth hiding in her eyes, the insecurities and doubts that she didn't want anyone, especially him, to see.
She looked up at the sky, not wanting to resume their conversation but also not wanting to go inside and act like…she didn't know what. She just didn't want to do it. Felicity wanted to go back to leaning on the swing, Oliver's hand on her back as he let her be but also did not leave her alone.
"Do you…do you want to go in?"
"Yeah...sounds good. It's kinda cold out here."
Felicity nodded and forced out a smile that was almost natural. She felt strange, not unhappy, necessarily, but definitely disquieted.
They walked back to the front door so as to avoid tracking mud through the dining room. Felicity felt nervous beside Oliver, not certain what to do with all of the things he had brought up. The hints at the fractured reality with his family had been said with a fragile hesitancy that made her chest ache. But then the pointed questions about herself had been said with an almost sweet understanding, as if he simply wanted to alert Felicity to fact and nothing more. She had no idea what to make of it. She had no idea what to do with Oliver Dearden.
Then she noticed the familiar brush of his arm against hers, and Felicity felt okay.
AN This is important. Honesty is important. Recognition is important. Healthy relationships are just so important.
